


The better side of me.

by Rogue1987



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Brotherly Love, Epic Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, angry Maxwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue1987/pseuds/Rogue1987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxwell is furious with Zlatan after his tirade against the referee, where he insulted the entire French nation.<br/>So he deals with it the only way he knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The better side of me.

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing Zlatan's behavior I couldn't resist making this fic. 
> 
> Mostly because I will always love Zlatan and Max's bond and I honestly think that Maxwell is the one who is hard on Zlatan when he behaves like this.  
> I think Maxwell is the only person on the planet who can afford it to talk back at Zlatan about things like this. 
> 
> So here is my version of what happened after the game.  
> I always love writing their dynamics and I love portraying Maxwell as a badass. 
> 
> *note that they are not a couple in a romantic way here, they are basically brothers*

_March 14_.

 

 

Maxwell had always known that Zlatan was like a little child sometimes.  
He had a temper to fear and a mouth so big that it was a miracle he still had so many fans left and was still allowed to play football.

Maxwell also knew that whenever they were playing for the same team ( which happened to be most of the time ) he was the one that had to be on babysitting duty with his best friend to prevent him from getting his dumb ass suspended for good.

He was like the little brother that Maxwell had _never_ wanted ( and he could know because he had two younger brothers ), and that he had to watch twenty four-seven to make sure he didn't get himself into all sorts of trouble.

He wasn't even sure _why_ he put up with it sometimes, but he figured that Zlatan was practically family and that you didn't walk away from your family.

You stuck with them, whether you liked it or not.

And Zlatan had done some insanely _ridiculous_ things in his career already, fighting on the training grounds with his own teammates, head butting players on the pitch, taking in numerous red cards for evil fouls.

But his stunt today was stupid on a whole new level.

It could be the thing that would get him kicked out of football for good, Maxwell pondered and he sighed deep, trying to control himself.

''How could you say that! Like how in the name of all that's holy and good in the world could you say something like _that!!''_ Laurent screamed in the bus that was taking the players back to the hotel.

Zlatan was sitting next to Maxwell in the front of the bus and was not replying to his coach's words.  
He was just staring outside with a blank expression on his face and had his earphones on, but Maxwell knew that he was listening and the music was off.

He also knew that despite Zlatan's uncaring face he was nervous deep inside of himself and he was probably nauseous of his earlier behavior.

Maxwell's body was trembling in anger and he turned to his side and yanked the headphones off his friend's ear and started screaming.

''HE ASKED YOU A QUESTION!!! STOP BEING SO FUCKING RUDE!!!''

Zlatan seemed to shrink to Maxwell's size and he avoided his gaze.  
The entire bus seemed to fall silent and Maxwell knew instantly that everyone was listening to his shouting.

Zlatan always acted like that when Maxwell shouted at him, not that it happened a lot, but when he did he always looked away from him, as if looking him in the eyes would hurt him and turn him into stone.

Maxwell was usually almost impossible to aggravate and it was even more rare to see him shouting at anyone.

But Zlatan _always_ pressed on all of his buttons and he honestly hated him sometimes.

''Sorry,'' Zlatan offered with a small, hopeful smile to his coach and Maxwell grumbled.  
''Yeah I bet you are,''

''Look coach I know I messed up okay, and I'm sorry for it. But let me handle-''

 _''You_ are not handling anything!! _I_ _will handle everything do you hear me!''_ Maxwell bit out and Zlatan nodded slow and obedient.

It was just like the good old times.

Like the time when Zlatan had completely wrecked his car in Barcelona when he and Mino had ended up in a snowstorm.  
Two guesses as to who was the one who had to come and pick them up in the middle of the night?

Or the time when Zlatan had shouted at Pep in the dressing room in Barcelona, when he had finally lost his temper after holding it in for months.

Take a guess as to who he sat next to in the bus and who had to take him home because if he allowed him to drive he would have caused an accident for sure.

And then there were the _thousands_ of times where Maxwell had to set his own alarm early, just to call Zlatan in the mornings so he wouldn't be late for training.

Zlatan always overslept and was a terrible morning person, so if Maxwell didn't wake him up, he just didn't get out of his bed and show up for training.

He resented Helena a bit for not helping him out with that, but she left for work even earlier than Zlatan did and she always used to say that he was a grown ass man and that Maxwell needed to stop saving his ass and let him fall on his face from time to time.

But he couldn't do that.

Maxwell was too selfish for that and needed his friend to stick around with him.  
If Zlatan got kicked out of a team he would be alone again, and he loved playing with Zlatan too much to let him go.

Zlatan nudged Maxwell's ribs gently to pull him back to reality and Maxwell blinked twice and sighed deep again.

''Fine, look boss we got it covered okay.

We will go to our room and record a message for the fans or something like that. Or we will write up a nice apology on my social media accounts,'' Zlatan assured him and Maxwell huffed unimpressed.

''What do you mean _we?_ Who typed out all of your apology shit over the years?''  
''You did,''

''Is that seriously true? I thought that it was just another fake rumor?'' David Luiz butted in, who was sitting next to Thiago behind the two best friends and he earned a knock to the back of his head from Thiago for his annoying curiosity.

''Yes it's true,'' Zlatan said, looking utterly embarrassed and Maxwell gritted his teeth angrily.

Thiago shook his head disbelieving and frowned deep.

''You really need to start controlling your anger better Ibra and you need to stop using Maxwell to solve your own shit,'' he lectured and Maxwell rolled his eyes and jumped to Zlatan's defense instantly.

''First of all: he's not _using_ me okay! I don't ever wanna hear anyone saying that!  
Second of all: you're preaching to the choir with the first thing you said! How many times do you think I've told him to control his anger? I gave him the same fucking speech for at least a hundredth times now!''

''Well anyway: I really hope that you realize what a PR nightmare this is going to become Zlatan,'' Laurent said, butting in again and Zlatan turned his face to his coach again.

''Yes I realize that,''  
''Because you've got to know that this whole country will turn on you after what you said. You just pissed off my _entire_ country!''

''I didn't mean it! I didn't mean to offend the French people! It wasn't personal! I was talking about the shit referees that this country just happens to have!'' Zlatan said defensively and Maxwell resisted the urge to smack him in his face.

Of course Zlatan hadn't meant it, hell he never did.  
With Zlatan you only needed to pay attention to his _actions_ , not his words because his words were not important.

This stupid, idiotic Swedish man-child was going to be the reason of his own demise he thought.  
Zlatan was going to pay for this dearly and everyone knew it.

Maxwell was scared for him, despite everything.

He would hate to see Zlatan's career ending like this, mostly because he couldn't imagine playing here at PSG for another year if Zlatan wasn't there anymore.

He still needed Zlatan to stay around him, even when he hated him a bit.

They had the world's most screwed up friendship that coexisted only because Maxwell was the world's most patient man alive.

Any other guy would have told Zlatan to go fuck himself years ago and would have stopped being his friend, but Maxwell couldn't do it.  
Somehow they had picked each other as best friends, all of those long years ago.

Maxwell wasn't really sure whom had picked whom, but what he did know was that he had liked Zlatan from the first time he shook his hand.

The tall Swede moved something inside of him, and maybe it woke up the urge to take care of him, or maybe he just reminded Maxwell of his own brother who always got into trouble.

Helena used to say that Maxwell had a 'Mother Theresa aura' around him and that he was only Zlatan's friend because he wanted to save him from himself and because Maxwell got off on people needing him.

He wasn't sure if that was true and it didn't matter either.

Of course he knew that their friendship was mildly screwed up and that most people didn't understand why they were still together after all that time but somehow they were.

And Maxwell would _never_ leave Zlatan's side, not if he had a choice in that.  
Nor would Zlatan leave him voluntarily.

Hell he had followed him all around Europe and met up with him at any team he went to.  
Zlatan had even named his eldest son after him, and Maxwell knew that Zlatan valued him and loved him a lot.

But hearing people say that he was just using him really hurt.  
Their relationship was completely equal and balanced and Maxwell refused to believe anything else.

''It doesn't matter how you meant to say it idiot, the point is that you did!'' Thiago shouted and Maxwell jumped to Zlatan's defense again like clockwork.

 _''Shut up!_ I said that I would handle this, so let me! And don't call him an idiot!'' Maxwell bit, gritting his teeth and Zlatan looked touched and gave him a thankful smile.

''Guys please don't fight, you know I hate it when people fight,'' Javier Pastore squeaked out, who was sitting a few chairs to their left and Maxwell got up and sat down next to him, to wrap his arm around his shoulders.

Javier's parents had fought a lot when he was a young child and it had traumatized him so much that even arguing people made him very nervous.

''Sorry Flaco, it won't happen again,'' he hushed and Javier shot him a watery smile.

They arrived back at the hotel shortly after that and Maxwell dragged Zlatan's ass up the stairs and sat him down on his bed behind his iPad.

''So get to work,'' he ordered and he sat down on he opposite bed and flipped trough some pictures of his daughters on his phone to relax his angry mind a bit.

Zlatan was quiet for a long time and was staring at the screen, not able to come up with anything to write as usual, but Maxwell wasn't in a very helpful mood just yet so he decided to let him suffer trough the silent treatment a bit longer.

Maxwell held onto his silence for about ten minutes but when he looked up, he saw Zlatan's dark eyes burning a hole into his own.

They were filled with desperation and despair and Maxwell got up from his bed and sat down next to Zlatan and tugged the iPad from his friend's lap. He had never been very good in saying no to Zlatan or in refusing him anything. 

''So shall we do Instagram first? Or your Facebook page?'' he mused, faking a casual mood that he knew would drive Zlatan nuts.  
''Uh I don't care, whatever you like,''

Maxwell put the tablet away and took Zlatan hand into his own and forced him to look him in the eyes.  
Zlatan always avoided eye contact with people.

Maxwell knew he did that because he was afraid that people might look into his soul and found his weaknesses if they gazed into his eyes.  
And if people knew what was in his heart they could hurt him.

Deep down, Zlatan was still that little insecure boy from Rosengard who lived a rich life but felt like ghetto trash that didn't deserve this kind of lifestyle.  
He still felt like an outsider.

''Ibra look at me please,'' Maxwell said with his most gentle voice and Zlatan obeyed.

Maxwell nudged both of them back against the cupboard of the bed and felt how Zlatan was clenching onto his hand for dear life.

''What's going on with you lately? I have a feeling that something is up with you, so can you please talk to me,'' he urged and Zlatan fell into a long silence and Maxwell knew that the silence meant that he was trapped in his own mind.

Weighing his options wether to tell Maxwell what was going on or not.  
Zlatan was always afraid that Maxwell thought he was weak when he showed his more sensitive side.

 _''It's just who I am Maxi,''_ Zlatan finally said and Maxwell rolled his eyes and squeezed his hand a bit harder.

''That's bullshit and you know it.

There are two sides to you: one is the side you show the whole world and one is who you _truly are._ That's the only side I wanna talk to right now, not the showy, pretentious Zlatan.

Just tell me what's up because I know something is wrong, otherwise you wouldn't have said what you just did today.  
So trust me like you always do and just tell me.

Your secret is safe with me, you should know that by now,''

''I do know that, it's just-''

''Yeah I know, you have a hard time trusting people and confiding in them.

Well guess what jerk: this is _me_ you're talking to here! _Remember me?_  
The guy who has been with you for the past fourteen years? The guy who knows you better than you know yourself.

The one who you named your first born after. 

That's _who_ you're talking to right now, so cut the crap and the stupid distant act and just tell me what's wrong! I can't read your mind!'' Maxwell bit out and to his own surprise he saw a set of tears bubbling up in Zlatan's eyes.

 _''Max can I-? Please?''_ Zlatan begged and Maxwell inhaled deep and nodded.

He grabbed a pillow, placed it on his lap and saw Zlatan stretch out sideways next to him, curling up in a fetal position, placing his head on the pillow and his arm around Maxwell's waist.

Zlatan didn't like to cuddle usually, but whenever he felt at his most vulnerable he wanted to lie like this with Maxwell.  
Just to put his head on his lap, his arm around him tight and to feel Maxwell's warm hand going over his back.

Sometimes they stayed like that for hours, just talking about life and one time both of them had fallen asleep lying like that. 

Maxwell used to cuddle with his own brothers all the time when he was growing up and he told Zlatan many stories about the things he did with them, so when Zlatan had gotten into an argument with Rafael van der Vaart in their early Ajax period, Maxwell had let Zlatan lie with his head on his lap to calm him down.

They had done that rather frequently ever since.

Whenever Zlatan was feeling extremely sad or angry they lied like that, Maxwell enjoying the peace and quiet for once and the chance to think about his brothers and it allowed Zlatan some time to cool off.

''I'm just so tired Max,'' Zlatan finally said after a silence so long that Maxwell had almost dozed off again.  
''Of what?''

''Of living this life,''  
Maxwell felt all the air being knocked out of his lungs and started gnawing on his lower lip nervously.

''What do you mean?''

''I'm just _so tired_ of always being in the damn spotlights, of always being followed everywhere I go. Of always making the news, even if I do nothing particular.  
I'm just fed up with it! I can't even take you and our kids to a theme park without being photographed to death and being bothered every two seconds,'' Zlatan sighed and Maxwell resisted the urge to yell at him.

''You know that comes with the job,'' he said, knowing his argument would not do well.  
''It's easy for _you_ to say that Max, you don't know what it's like to be me,''

''Excuse me _your highness,_ but I think that I'm in half of your pictures as well! I have that camera in my face all day too!''

''Yes because the people want to take _my_ picture Max, not yours!

Most of them don't even know who you are! It's easy for you because they don't talk about you in the press, they don't bother you.  
When they take our picture they are taking it because they wanna photograph _me_ not you,'' Zlatan said and a sharp pain shot trough Maxwell's heart.

He knew Zlatan was right, he was right most of the times, but it still hurt him sometimes to know how little he meant to his fans compared to his best friend.

''Yes it's always about _you_ isn't it?'' he grumbled angrily and Zlatan sighed deep.

''It is yes, and you know I don't like that! You know I'm not trying to gloat here! I get too much attention and you get it way too little.  
It's not fair to you and I know that.

_But I can't help it!_

I just wish that I could quit playing sometimes because I don't wanna do this anymore Max.  
I don't want to have to hide myself to go out my door. A part of me just wants to quit and get some well deserved peace,'' Zlatan admitted and Maxwell swallowed a tear away.

He should have known that this was coming, he had felt it building up for quite some time now but still, he never actually thought Zlatan would quit playing before he did.

Maxwell untied the band in Zlatan's dark hair and stroked his hands trough the always surprisingly soft locks.

''Max please _say something,_ you're scaring me,'' Zlatan noted and Maxwell smiled gentle.

''I'm sorry I shouted at you in the bus and that I was so hard on you right now. I should have known this was coming.  
Look if you really want to quit playing after this year than I will support you in that.

Because you're right: you've suffered enough from all the constant attention and you've been trough enough misery for a lifetime.  
However I had hoped that we were going to play together for another year and that we would retire together like we had planned to do.

But this is your choice Ibra and if you're sure that this is what you want then I will back you up on it,''

''But why? I made you a promise and I might break it,''

''Because you're _my family_ you dimwit and _I love you._ I know you don't come from a standard family like I do, but a normal family supports whatever choice their brother makes.  
So if this is what you really want and need then I will be here for you and I will support you,'' Maxwell vowed and he pressed a soft kiss to Zlatan's damp hair.

Zlatan's eyes welled up some more and there were two tears rolling down his cheeks and Maxwell had to contain himself from not crying as well.  
''I don't deserve a brother like you Max,''

''Yes you do, you deserve to have whatever you want. Because you've been trough enough and you've suffered enough for one lifetime,''  
_''I love you Maxi,''_

''I know, I love you as well,'' Maxwell ensured him and Zlatan rose up and hugged Maxwell as tight as he could.  
''Maybe I will think about quitting some more,'' Zlatan mused, his face buried in Maxwell's neck.

''No you won't, if you want to quit then you quit. Don't over think everything okay!''

''But you need me to stay, so maybe I should do another year. It's not that long and you've always done everything for me.  
Maybe it's time for me to give something back to you, instead of me just _using_ you for my own needs,'' Zlatan said, repeating Thiago's harsh words from the bus and Maxwell cringed and felt anger and pain surging trough his veins.

''Don't say that!!! You don't use me! Nor have you _ever_ used me! I'm your equal Zlatan, and I'm not your servant, your little boy toy or your conscience.

I am me and you are you.

You're my brother and I will be with you no matter what.  
And what the rest of the world thinks about our relationship doesn't interest me.

Try as hard as you like but you are not getting rid of me, no matter what you do, no matter how many times you continue to piss me off.  
You're under my skin and I'm under yours.

So get it together and let's go type up your apology letter because I'm not ready to finish this year without you,'' Maxwell ordered and Zlatan released him and shot him a cheesy grin.

''Thanks Max, for always being here,''  
''Anytime idiot,''

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it!  
> Let me know how you feel! <3


End file.
